CreditDauphine Sunnydale
by Lisden
Summary: AliasBuffy Crossover. Finally Chapter 3 is UP!Lots of pairings, BuffyVaughn, DawnSark, XanderSydney
1. Wander

Xander walked home with his hands in his pockets. Work had been dull. He didn't know why, but blueprints just didn't give him the high that they used to. Oh well. It probably had something to do with the imminent apocalypse. Xander figured he should probably be more worried about it. It was just that he'd been through so many, the novelty kinda wore off. The world is ending? Must be Wednesday. The cold night breeze blew, and Xander pulled his jacket closed. He stared at the ground while he walked. He wanted to get home, to see Buffy, Dawn and Willow. Even Anya.  
  
"Oh, Gosh, I'm sorry!" Xander exclaimed, as he walked into someone who had been walking in the opposite direction of him. The tall man turned to him.  
  
"Oh, it's no problem. I should probably watch where I'm going." The man said. Xander was instantly jealous of how good-looking the guy was. His dimples made Xander want to...well, not stand next to him.  
  
"Listen, maybe you could help me," The man continued, "I'm not from here, and I'm looking for directions to the Sunnydale Motel."  
  
"Ooh. That I can help you with. You're way off. It's back that way a few blocks." Xander told him. The man looked over his shoulder.  
  
"Oh. Well, don't I look stupid. I'm Michael, by the way." He said, offering his hand to Xander.  
  
"Xander Harris." He replied, shaking it.  
  
"Well...thanks for the directions." Michael told him, turning in the direction of the hotel.  
  
"Don't mention it." Xander replied, as they both went their separate ways. Nice guy, Xander thought to himself, as he continued on to Buffy's. ********  
  
"Vaughn, you there?" Vaughn heard Sydney say into his earphone.  
  
"Yah, go ahead, Syd." He replied, looking to both sides of him.  
  
"Where are you?" Sydney inquired, sounding impatient. Vaughn laughed to himself.  
  
"Actually, I couldn't find the Hotel. But I got directions. I'm heading there now."  
  
"Good, cuz I'm waiting. Kendall has just contacted me. No sign of Sark as of yet... You know, I don't even think he's here. There's NOTHING in this town. How do you like it so far?" Sydney asked him.  
  
"Nice people, here." He remarked, "Syd, I'm at the Hotel now. I'm coming up."  
  
"See you when you get here." Sydney told him, and his set went quiet. Vaughn took the earpiece out of his ear. In the lobby of the motel he found Jack.  
  
"Agent Bristow." Vaughn greeted him, walking up to him.  
  
"You're late, Mr.Vaughn. Kendall has been calling."  
  
"Sydney told me. I...I got lost." Vaughn said, with his shy smile. Jack didn't reply. He looked distant.  
  
"Fascinating." He remarked, dryly, "Yet I can't seem to get a brandy at this establishment." Vaughn smiled.  
  
"Jack, I don't think that this is the place for that." Vaughn told him. Jack frowned.  
  
"No, this doesn't seem to be the place for much of anything, does it?" He remarked, "Sunnydale. What are we doing here?"  
  
"Looking for Sark, remember?" Vaughn reminded him.  
  
"Ah, yes." Jack replied with a bitter smile, "My idea of fun."  
  
"Well, I'm going to get some sleep. You should do the same. We'll meet in the morning for updates." Vaughn said, turning and heading down the hall.  
  
"Mr. Vaughn?" Jack called after him. Vaughn turned back around expectantly.  
  
"Keep in mind that I'm in the next room, and the walls are paper thin. I think that getting that sleep would be the best idea." Jack warned. Vaughn blushed deeply, before nodding and heading for his and Sydney's room.  
  
******  
  
Stupid Buffy. Stupid Willow. Stupid Spike. Stupid Xander, Dawn thought to herself, as she ran down the street. She hated them all. Buffy for treating her like shit. Willow for always agreeing with Buffy. Spike for loving Buffy and not her. Xander for loving Buffy and not her. She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't care. It wasn't like she was going to get lost in Sunnydale. Suddenly, a person stepped out of the bushes in front of her. Dawn screamed.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey...Slow down, miss. Where are you trying to get to in such a hurry?" Asked the man who held her by the shoulders. Dawn tried to catch her breath, as she looked him over. He was good looking, she decided, a little old for her, but still...he had short blond hair that ended in little curls in the back. He was dressed in a suit. Dawn would have liked to have been able to comment to herself something witty, like "Versatchi", but the truth was, there weren't many people with suits in Sunnydale. This man also had a really sexy hint of a British accent. Suddenly, Dawn remembered what she was doing, and pulled violently out of his grasp.  
  
"Sorry. I guess I'm just upset." She remarked, and as she turned to walk away, she felt his hand on her shoulder again.  
  
"Dawn Summers?" He asked her. She stared at him.  
  
"How...How do you know my name?" She stammered. He smiled at her.  
  
"My name is Sark, and I'm going to need you to come with me."  
  
******  
  
"Dawn's been gone for a day!" Willow exclaimed, "How could we have missed that?"  
  
It was the following day, and the gang was at Buffy's house. Dawn hadn't come home.  
  
"We all thought she was at school!" Anya defended herself.  
  
"Where would she have gone?" Xander asked.  
  
"Don't know, don't care." Buffy remarked coldly.  
  
"Buffy, you know that that's not true." Willow insisted. Buffy sighed.  
  
"I know...it's just that, she does this so often, I'm getting so sick of it. I guess... Xander, you check the Bronze, Willow, you check Janice's. Spike, you and I can take the graveyard. Anya..."  
  
"I'll stay here. In case she decides to come back." Anya said. Buffy nodded.  
  
"Ok, let's go."  
  
******  
  
Vaughn, Sydney and Jack met in the lobby.  
  
"Anything?" Vaughn asked, running up.  
  
"Not a thing." Sydney offered, "You?" Michael shook his head.  
  
"I did get a call from Kendall," Jack offered, "It seems that Sloan acquired a Rambaldi manuscript. In it were details about a prophecy...Kendall said that it was unclear, but there was something about Sunnydale and a "Key". They believe that Sark is here to obtain it."  
  
"A key? A key to what?" Sydney asked, confused.  
  
"It's not clear." Jack replied.  
  
"Well...we're all at a dead end, then." Vaughn muttered, frustrated.  
  
"Well, where the hell could Sark hide in a town this small?" Sydney asked. Vaughn shrugged. Jack sighed.  
  
"Syd, your mission is to go to the local location of the teenagers around here. Kendall wants you posing as a juvenile and looking for Sark. If we're lucky, he doesn't even know that we know he's here, and we've got the element of surprise. Agent Vaughn, you'll be checking around town, in the less populated areas. Most likely, Sark will be around people, a fancy hotel would be his style, but seeing as we are in Sunnydale, and there is nothing that can be counted as civilization, he could be anywhere. I'll be checking the more suburban areas, where the majority of people here live." Jack concluded, "Are we clear?"  
  
"Check." Replied Sydney.  
  
"Yes sir." Vaughn said, nodding. *******  
  
Music blared. Xander stepped into the Bronze and was flooded with old memories; the time Buffy had danced illicitly with him on the dance floor, the night when Cordilla broke up with him, the cockroach fumigation parties...Yah, he had some good memories of the place. The lights were dim, and the place was packed with kids.  
  
"God Damn needle in a haystack." Xander muttered to himself. He made his way slowly over to the bar, keeping an eye out for Dawn. All thoughts of her soon vanished, though, when he spotted a woman sitting at a table near the back. She wasn't from around here, you could tell by her style. More sophisticated, worldlier...Xander was impressed. She was hot. Dawn's probably ok, he thought to himself, she's just off with one of her friends. Pushing Dawn out of his head, he made his way over to the girl's table.  
  
"Hi." Xander offered to her, over the music. She smiled a bit. Xander noticed that she had a really beautiful smile. It was kind of shy, and kind.  
  
"Mind if I sit down?" Xander asked her. He instantly saw a look on panic and maybe disappointment in her eyes. Xander Harris, rejected again. Same old song and dance. He sighed.  
  
"You know what, never mind. I didn't mean to intrude..." He started, turning away.  
  
"You're not intruding at all. I'm sorry, I'm just looking for someone." She cut him off. Xander smiled and sat down.  
  
"You know what? Me too." He told her with a smile. The woman laughed.  
  
"Who's your subject?" She asked him, sipping her drink.  
  
"Rebellious angsty teenager." Xander replied, "And yours?"  
  
"Sometimes he acts like a rebellious angsty teenager." She muttered bitterly. Xander laughed.  
  
"Boyfriend?" He asked her. She shook her head.  
  
"You're not from here, are you?" Xander asked her. She shook her head.  
  
"What was your first clue?" She asked him.  
  
"Well, you're sitting here all alone, in the back of the bronze, and frankly, you don't see many classy women here." Xander explained. Oh, there was that smile again.  
  
"Oh, so I have class?" She asked him, grinning.  
  
"Yah...listen, just to be safe, you're not a vampire are you?"  
  
"Excuse me?" She asked with a confused little smile. Xander smiled back.  
  
"Nevermind. Hey, I'm Xander."  
  
"Sydney." She replied, grinning."  
  
******  
  
Graveyards are creepy, Vaughn thought to himself. He couldn't really tell why, but for some reason, especially the ones in Sunnydale. He also couldn't really explain why he was trekking through one, because Sark would never caught dead in a place like this. It was a quiet night, and Vaughn walked along listening to nothing, until he heard shouts.  
  
"Dawn?! Dawn, are you here?" came a voice from the other side of a few trees. The voice sounded like a young woman's, and even though Vaughn was pretty sure that his name wasn't "Don", he thought he'd go and investigate. When he heard the girl scream, he ran faster, through the trees and into the new part of the graveyard. Jeez, how many people die here? He thought to himself as he looked around the new section. Suddenly, he saw them. The girl was on the ground, struggling, underneath a man who looked clearly like he was going to hurt her. Before Vaughn could run over and unleash his CIA combat training on him, a blond man in a long black duster came running over and tackled the guy off of the girl. She leapt to her feet, and ran to the blond guy, who was now punching the assailant very unmercifully. The girl pulled him off the guy.  
  
"This one's personal." She told him.  
  
"Personal?" The man asked her. He had a cocky British accent.  
  
"He ripped my shirt." The girl replied with a shrug. Vaughn watched in awe as the girl ran up a mausoleum, flipped and came down and landed on the other side of the man who had attacked her. Vaughn couldn't believe his eyes. After an amazing hand to hand fight, the girl stabbed the man in the chest with a pointy wooden object. The man exploded into dust. The girl stood up straight and walked back over to her British friend, dusting off her pants as she walked.  
  
"Are you hurt?" He asked her, putting his hand on her shoulder. This is when Vaughn finally got over his shock and went running over. The girl saw him coming and pulled out her sharp wooden thing. Vaughn stopped short.  
  
"Whoa! Whoa, don't stab me, please. I'm CIA.I just.I need to know what the hell you just did." He said, raising his hands in defense. The girl rolled her eyes, and lowered her stake.  
  
"God damn authorities." She muttered to the other man. She looked at Vaughn.  
  
"Well, sorry. What you saw was a figment of your imagination. Or a gang war. Which ever you choose to believe." She turned and started to walk away, but Vaughn stopped her.  
  
"Wait, miss. Listen, I'm not stupid, and I don't need your bullshit. I've had a really hard night, I'm looking for someone, and I can't find him. So I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but I just saw a really weird thing and it would definitely help my ego is you could tell me that it wasn't just my imagination, cuz I think I just saw you kill a vampire. And you are an amazing fighter, the technique. You're really good." He told her, smiling, but still somewhat confused. The girl turned around.  
  
"Do all men think that it's so strange for a girl to actually be able to fight? God, could it be so amazing to see a girl actually be able to defend herself?" She asked, sounding pissed off. Vaughn shook his head.  
  
"No, no. I actually know a girl who could rival you. I was just admiring your skill." The girl sighed.  
  
"Sorry," she said, sounding somewhat apologetic, "It's just that I've had way too many bad experiences with CIA, or police or FBI or whatever. OK, vampires are real, blah, blah, blah, I kill them for a living." The blond man looked impatient.  
  
"C'mon, love. Dawn." He said, nudging her.  
  
"Spike, just a minute." She told him. She turned back to Vaughn, and reached out her hand.  
  
"I'm Buffy. This is Spike. I'm sorry we can't help you, but we're looking for someone, too."  
  
"Dawn, right?" Vaughn asked, shaking her hand. Buffy's eyes widened.  
  
"Yah. How did you."  
  
"I heard you calling her name earlier. I'm Michael." Vaughn replied. Buffy was instantly charmed by his great smile.  
  
"Hi." She said, not letting go of his hand.  
  
"Hi." He said back, grinning. Spike rolled his eyes.  
  
"Earth to Buffy.Dawn, apocalypse.any of this ringing any bells?" He asked her. Buffy let go of Vaughn's hand.  
  
" I have to go." She said. Vaughn nodded.  
  
"Listen, maybe you could show me the way to 'The Bronze'? Someone I know is supposed to be there, and I don't really know the way."  
  
"Actually we're headed there next." Buffy told him smiling, "C'mon."  
  
"Thanks" Vaughn told them both, following them out of the graveyard. 


	2. Back Up

A/N-  
I don't own these characters.  
Sorry this next part is so short, I was gonna put up more, but that would have taken a   
longer time.  
Enjoy,  
Lisden  
Jack walked along the quiet street slowly. He had seen and done a lot of things in his life, but he didn't think he had ever been this bored.  
  
"Small towns." he mumbled to himself. The thing that was bugging him was Sloane. He couldn't find Sark, and he couldn't figure out what they were up to. And he was usually so good at that. And he missed Irena. No, he was not supposed to. And Yes, it was very unlike him to do so, but he couldn't help it. She was beautiful, she was strong...and she was perfect for him. That's why he had married her in the first place. Everything had gone wrong. And now where were they? She was in CIA custody; in some cell, locked up, probably forever. And he was wandering the suburban streets of Sunnydale. The truth was, Jack didn't really think that Sark would be here at all. Anything that was going on in Sunnydale had to be small. Sark usually went for big. He decided to give up and go back to the Hotel. Problem was, he didn't know where that was. Just then, a young red-headed woman passed him.  
  
"Excuse me, miss?" Jack asked her. She stopped, surprised, and turned to him.  
  
"I was just wondering whether you could be so kind as to point me in the direction of the Sunnydale Motel? I seem to be...er, misplaced." Jack admitted. The girl smiled.  
  
"Sure. It's about seven blocks that way." She told him, pointing in the direction from which she had come, "I don't really know how you got lost in Sunnydale, but you'd better get back to your motel. It's dangerous for anyone to be walking the streets at night." Jack smiled. He supposed he did look like somewhat of a helpless old man to people who didn't know him.  
  
"I'll take that into consideration, Thank you. 'Thank you with the most amount of gratitude a single person can possess without bubbling over.'" Jack quoted. The girl smiled.  
  
"Timothy Melbourne!" She exclaimed., excitedly. Jack was surprised. Half the scholars he knew hadn't read that book, yet this young girl had; she even knew it well enough to quote it.  
  
"That's right." Jack told her, "You've read 'The Cleansing'?"  
  
"A few times." The girl admitted, looking at her hands, "I love anything Melbourne wrote. Especially his post depression work, it's very uplifting."  
  
"If you like chocolate." Jack said, with a smile, and they both laughed at the inside joke from the book.  
"Jack Bristow." He told her, offering his hand with a smile. She grinned back.  
  
"Willow Rosenberg." She replied. Suddenly, Jack had an idea.  
  
"Have you heard of Rambaldi?" He asked her. Her eyes lit up.  
  
"When I was taking Psych I was very into him, I read many books on him, and studied everything I could find. The man was a genius." Willow gushed. Jack nodded.  
  
"Yes he was. Have you read the manuscript that William Gaither wrote on his artifacts?" he asked her.  
  
"More than once." She replied. Jack sighed.  
  
"If only I could get my hands on that." He muttered out loud.  
  
"Actually, I know someone who has a copy." Willow offered. Jack looked up at her. If this girl really did know someone who still had a copy of this manuscript, they could figure out Sloane's intentions here in Sunnydale. Kendall would flip.   
  
"Listen, Willow, I need your help with something sort of important, so if you would just sign this confidentiality agreement, then..."  
  
"Confidentiality agreement?" Willow asked, eyes wide, "What are you, CIA or something?"  
  
"Actually, yes." Jack told her, "And that document would be very helpful to a case we're working on at the present time." Willow signed the papers he held out to her.  
  
"C'mon," She told him, motioning down the street, "Giles lives this way."   
  
"Giles?" He asked, confused, but he followed her down the sidewalk.  
**************************************  
"So this is the mansion." Dawn said absently, gazing around her. The big room was hollow and stony. There were benches, a long table, and tall metal chairs. There was a velvet couch in one corner. Everything was covered in dust, and old dried out rose bushes were everywhere.  
  
"What do you mean?" Sark asked her. He was sitting down at the stone table, with his laptop computer.   
"Oh, Buffy always used to talk about this place. When Spike was evil, he and Drusilla and Angel stayed here. This was their lair. Isn't that cool?" Dawn asked.  
  
"Facinating." Sark had replied. He obviously wasn't listening. Too busy with his computer. Dawn was lying backwards on the couch. Being abducted was cool. Sark obviously needed her for something, and it was nice to be needed. Especially by a hot British guy like him. She'd been gone since last night, and she knew that Buffy and the gang would be worried. She didn't care. Actually, she was glad. It might make them appreciate her a bit more. Sark was nice to her, she was on an adventure, as far as she knew he didn't intend to kill her, and the best thing about Sark? He had no clue who Buffy was. She had tried that already.  
  
"Take me home, " She had shouted at him when he had first captured her, "Buffy will kick your ass if you don't." Sark had given her an amused little smile.  
  
"Who?" He had asked. That small little word had won Dawn over. She had become a willing captive. He wasn't a vampire, as far as she could tell he didn't even know there were vampires. She had caught little bits of conversation with a man named "Sloan", and when she questioned Sark about him, he had let her speak with him. She had asked Sloan why she was there. He told her that she was needed, and not to worry, if she cooperated fully, she would be returned home. Dawn liked him. He sounded almost fatherly. Dawn always missed her father. She sighed aloud out of boredom, and turned to watch Sark type. She had been watching him a lot over the hours she'd been with him. He was good looking.   
  
"Sark?" She asked him.  
  
"Hmmm?" He asked, still typing away. Dawn wondered what he was typing.  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"Twenty Six." He replied, looking up from his computer, "Why?" Dawn smiled. This was the first time he had looked at her all day.  
  
"Oh, just wondering." She said, sitting up and swinging her legs around the side of the couch, "You know...I'm almost 18." Sark got up from his computer and sat beside her on the couch.  
  
"Dawn, I don't know where you are going with this, but I don't like it. Stop coming on to me. I am so much older than you." He told her firmly. Dawn crossed her arms.  
  
"It would have worked if I were Buffy" She mumbled, sticking out her lower lip. Sark rolled his eyes.  
  
"And who the hell is this "Buffy" you keep referring to? I haven't met her, and I don't like her already!"  
  
"She's my sister! She's the slayer." Dawn yelled. Now she was mad at Sark. He was just like Xander and Spike. He'd be in love with Buffy if he met her.  
  
"What the hell is a slayer?" Sark asked, crazily, "You know, I've kept a lot of hostages, and you are the most irritable!" Suddenly, Sark's computer started making a strange beeping noise. He got up off the couch and ran to it.  
  
"Shit!" He exclaimed, after inspecting the screen.  
  
"What, is your toast burning?" Dawn asked him, annoyed. Sark shot her a dirty look before flipping open his cell phone.  
  
"Sir, its Sark." He said to the person who picked up the line, "She's here. In Sunnydale, now. Yes, my tracker can pick up DNA inserted trackers, and I'm getting Bristow's now. It's programmed into my drive." There was a long pause, before he continued.  
  
"No, sir, but I'm betting that Daddy is here, as well...Right. Right. "He finished, hanging up the phone.   
  
"What's going on?" Dawn asked, suddenly more interested.  
  
"You watch movies?" Sark asked Dawn, hurriedly typing on his laptop.   
  
"Yeah." Dawn replied, moving over behind him to read the computer.  
  
"Well, I suppose she's sort of my arch-nemesis. The Green Goblin to my Spiderman." Sark replied absently.  
  
"Cool." Dawn said, impressed, "I need an arch- Nemesis." Sark must have spotted something on the screen, because at that moment, he picked up his phone.  
  
"Sir," He said into it, "I'm getting a signal from the last DNA code you gave me...yes, it belongs to a Michael Vaughn...yes, the signal is stronger. I'll find him. I bet she's with him." He hung up his phone.   
  
"What are you doing now?" Dawn asked Sark, as he began to type furiously.  
  
"Shut up, and I'm bringing up a DNA sensor code map to locate this guy." He told her. The map popped up on the screen.  
  
"Ooh! There's my house!" Dawn said, pointing. Sark ignored her, and looked to where a little green light was flashing along the screen pushed a button and the screen magnified.  
  
"There he is." Sark breathed, watching.  
  
"He's a little green blip." Dawn commented, "Ooh, he's headed towards the bronze." Sark picked up his cell phone again and dialed.  
  
"Hello, Randy. Listen, I need a satellite image on screen 456 of co-ordinates NNW 89, Long. 59." A few minutes after Sark gave these orders, an image popped up on the screen. Dawn watched as a man walked along the street to the Bronze.  
  
"That's him. That's Vaughn." Sark told her, "There's someone with him. It must be Sydney." Dawn leaned in and looked at the screen closer.  
  
"Can you magnify it?" She asked Sark, squinting. He leaned over and typed some commands into the computer, and the image got larger.  
  
"No, it's not Sydney..." Sark said, sounding both relieved and disappointed at the same time.  
  
"Damn...it's Buffy!" Dawn exclaimed, "And Spike!"  
  
"Your sister? What is she doing with the CIA?" Sark asked. Dawn sighed.  
  
"Ok, Here it goes...she's sort of a super hero..." Dawn stammered.   
  
"Huh?" Sark asked, confused. He picked up his phone.   
  
"Randy, I need a complete background check and DNA codes for a Buffy Summers." After a few moments, Dawn watched Buffy's face appear on the computer screen along with her information.  
  
"She's just a regular Student!" Sark exclaimed. Dawn shook her head.  
  
"Not exactly. She...Oh, never mind. Just find out for yourself." She muttered grumpily, and made her way back over to the couch, lay down on it and closed her eyes.   
******************* 


	3. Try Me

AN- I'm back, with another chapter of this fic. Thank you to the people who reviewed, I really appreciate it. I'm going to keep working on it, so stay with me and don't give up hope!  
  
********  
  
"So, what do you have against the CIA?" Vaughn asked Buffy, as they walked down an alley towards The Bronze.  
  
"Nothing really. It's just that they always think that they're above everyone. And I've had a few bad experiences with government agencies honing in on my area of work." Buffy told him. They walked side by side. Spike walked a bit behind them, rolling his eyes. They were supposed to be finding Dawn, not playing the dating game.  
  
"Listen, Buffy. I'm going to Giles's house. Maybe the little bit's turned up there." Spike said, stepping up to her.  
  
"Be careful, luv," he whispered in her ear, "The first might be lurking and I don't want you getting hurt." Buffy nodded.  
  
"It was nice to meet you." Vaughn told Spike as he turned to leave.  
  
"Same to you, mate." He replied, continuing down the alley.  
  
As Spike approached the area where Giles lived, he was deep in thought. That stupid git he had left with Buffy had been making eyes at her all night. Buffy was so fickle; she had practically jumped into his arms. Spike didn't need that. And he didn't need the stupid soul that was bugging him every minute of the day. He walked a little farther before he got the suspicion that someone was watching him. Spike was barely ever wrong about this type of thing, but he kept walking normally. He wondered who it was. Dawn? Some weird demon? Whoever it was, Spike wasn't in the mood. He stopped walking.  
  
"Alright. Enough with the Magnum PI. Step out and show me who you are, cuz I'm not really in the mood for games tonight." He shouted, to no one in particular. He was taken aback when someone landed on his head from the trees above, sending them both sprawling to the ground. They landed and rolled a bit, but the assailant landed on top, pinning Spike to the ground. Spike looked up at the woman. She was beautiful, with auburn hair pulled into a loose ponytail and all black clothes. She looked in her late thirties, maybe forties.  
  
"Blimey, Woman! Are you trying to kill me?" Spike demanded, trying to throw the woman off of him. He had no luck, and she kept him pinned firmly to the ground.  
  
"Maybe." She said, looking down at him, "But that depends on you. Who are you, who do you work for, and what are you doing in Sunnydale?" She demanded, bringing a knife to his throat. Spike decided he had had enough of this. He wasn't going to play her game anymore.  
  
"What the bloody hell is all that bullshit?" He asked her. He gave her one huge shove with all his strength, and she flew off him. He stood up, but she stood up, too, and pointed a gun at him.  
  
"Whoa, Luv. Let's talk things out. We're both rational people. I think. Don't think that thing'd kill me, but it would blow a nastily painful hole in me. I don't think I'd fancy that." The woman didn't even flinch.  
  
"Then, once more(who are you. Who do you work for? What are you doing in Sunnydale?" She asked, in a cool voice. Spike raised his hands in defense.  
  
"Bloody hell. All right. The name's Spike, and last I check, I worked for nobody. What the hell do you mean, work? And I live here, for Christ's sake." He said.  
  
"You're a local?" The woman asked, lowering her gun. Spike nodded.  
  
"That's what I said, luv." He replied.  
  
"A civilian?" She asked, still not quite believing him.  
  
"Ooh, she's a scholar." He replied, rolling his eyes.  
  
"You're extraordinarily strong for a civilian." She commented, putting her gun away, "And civilians usually act a bit more surprised when people jump on them and wave guns around. Why don't you?"  
  
"I've seen a lot and heard a lot," Spike replied, "Now it's my turn to ask the questions. Who are you? What are you? And what are you doing in Sunnydale."  
  
"Here on business. And usually I'll wait until I get you in bed before I offer my name." The woman said, with a slight smile. Spike chuckled.  
  
"I like your style. One of the most pleasant skirts that's jumped me in a long while." He commented, "Now, since we've established that I'm a civilian and a local, is there anywhere I can help you get to?" The woman shook her head.  
  
"Not unless you've seen any CIA agents running about...and they're not usually the type that volunteer that information. Kind of hard to spot." She said with a sigh.  
  
"Actually..." Spike said, "Would one be a skinny, wrinkly bloke with a cocky smile?"  
  
"That sounds like Vaughn." The woman said, smiling.  
  
"That's the one. Annoying chap." Spike told her.  
  
"Yes, well, it's likely he'll become my son in law, so I put up with him," she replied, "Now, where can I find him?" Spike took her hand.  
  
"Follow me, luv." He told her.  
  
******  
  
"This text is amazing..." Jack muttered, bent low over volumes of old books. Giles nodded.  
  
"Aren't they? I also find it extremely peculiar that..."  
  
"They're all dated 1600's, yet they have shades of important things that are happening today in the world." Jack finished for him.  
  
"Precisely!" Giles exclaimed, with a huge smile. Willow rolled her eyes from the couch.  
  
"Don't get to excited, Giles." She warned, with a hint of a smile. Giles shot her an annoyed look.  
  
"Would you like some tea?" He asked Jack, who looked up gratefully from the books.  
  
"I would love some...and you wouldn't happen to have any brandy, would you?" Jack inquired.  
  
"Only the best." Giles replied, smiling. He left to go to the kitchen. Willow walked over to Jack.  
  
"He gets sick of us young folk. He's just happy to finally be able to talk to someone more around his age level." Jack smiled.  
  
"Yes, I can see why he might." He told her, gazing around the house. There were clothes tossed about everywhere, and dishes piled high in the kitchen and Jack suddenly got the notion that Giles did not live here alone. In fact, it looked like Willow lived there too.and several other people of the same age. It struck Jack as strange that an old man would be living with young people.  
  
"Rupert, he's.he's you grandfather?" Jack asked Willow suddenly. Willow let out a giggle, which she abruptly chocked back down, and shook her head vigorously.  
  
"No, no.Just.well.Oh jeez, I can't explain this." She said as Giles came back into the room with two snifters of Brandy and warn tea. She looked at Giles as if she wanted help explaining.  
  
"And, may I ask, where did you obtain there book.volumes and volumes of what should have been property of the CIA long ago." Jack continued, standing and taking the drinks from Giles. What should have been an intensely odd situation, Jack found, was actually quite calming to him. Giles sighed.  
  
"Uh.alright," he began, nervously British all of a sudden, "but you're not going to believe me." Jack smiled a little smile at the corner of his mouth and thought over everything he had done in his years.  
  
"Try me." 


End file.
